But she didn’t go in and she took a step backward. That’s what had him getting out of the car. She turned to look in his direction and that’s when a man came out onto the porch.

“Everything all right?” Duke called out.

“What’s it to you?” the man replied.

Duke’s ground-eating stride had him up to the porch in a few breaths.

Carmella closed her eyes and rage fired Duke’s blood. Again these fuckers made her feel bad.

“I’m Duke Bradshaw. Carmella’s boyfriend.” He held out his hand, keeping eye contact and seeing the monster of addiction in the shadows in his gaze. There was a nervous sort of animosity coming from him that made Duke wary.

“I’m Carmella’s daddy, Steven.” He looked Duke over, sizing him up. Duke let him, wanting the old man to know what he was up against should he try to harm Carmella.

“This is Steven Hay. I was just going to leave once I came in to drop Mom’s stuff off.” Carmella’s hand gesture when she introduced them gave Steven the chance to weasel out of a handshake and shove his hands in his pockets.

“As I said, you can give it all to me and I’ll be sure she gets it. We sure appreciate the food you bring over. You’re a great cook. Better than your mom even.” Steven’s smile was calculating as he turned it to Duke. “I didn’t know Carmella had a man friend. She doesn’t tell us much. I suppose that’s how it is when they grow up and move away.”

Carmella made a half-strangled sound.

“Where is she?” Carmella moved to the side to go in, but Steven put a hand up to bar her entrance.

“She’s resting. You and she have been fighting and she’s tired. She doesn’t want to see you.”

“I’ll go ahead and verify that for myself. Anyway, I don’t have to be her friend to drop this off. Move your arm.” Carmella was like one of those terriers who hunted stuff. She was all fluffed up and ready to rumble. She hated this man in a way she didn’t extend to her mother or that ex-husband of hers.

“She doesn’t want to see you,” Steven repeated. “This is her house, Carmella. Respect that.”

“Actually, it’s my house. She nearly lost it two years ago. We made an agreement. I pay the mortgage. She gets to live here rent-free. You’re not part of that equation. I was hoping you’d pay her rent, but obviously that’s not going to happen. But I can, and I will come in my own house and I’ll do it now. You can move your arm or you can do it when the police take you back to jail.” She shrugged.

“I’m going to have to insist you move out of the way, Mr. Hay,” Duke said.

He dropped his arm and Carmella rushed inside. Clearly she was worried about her mother, so Duke left Steven in their wake and followed quickly.

“It’s not what you think!” Steven yelled as he slammed the door and followed them in.

Carmella stood outside a bedroom door and knocked. A dog barked on the other side. “Mom, I know you’re here. Come out.”

“I don’t want to see you. We’ll talk next week. Leave the pills and the food and go.”

Sighing, Carmella looked over her shoulder to Duke. “Scrapbook memory time.” She pulled a pin from her hair and unbent it, using that to poke through the hole in the doorknob.

The lock popped and Carmella marched inside and then skidded to a halt. And when she reached out to open the blinds and light flooded into the room, Duke understood why she’d halted.

“Duke”—Carmella’s voice shook but she held it together—“can you please take the dog? She’s nasty, but probably hungry. There’s some ham in the bag I brought. Give her some, okay? Water too.”

Duke found a clean-ish towel and he picked the snarly little creature up. Pity filled him as he could see how hungry it was once he gave it some ham. He didn’t take his attention off the bedroom doorway, or from Steven Hay, who stood not too far away, wringing his hands.

“It’s not what you think,” Steven said.

“That so? What is it then?”

“I was inside a few years. I just got a little carried away. We drank too much. You know how it is.”

“What I think is that you beat up that woman in there. And now you’re sticking around because you’re trying to figure out how to manage Carmella into shutting up so you don’t have to go back inside.”

Virgie yelled out as Carmella reached the doorway. “You’re making him stressed out. We just needed to chill a little. I fell, that’s all.”

Carmella ignored her mother, heading over to Steven. “She’s on medication that shouldn’t be mixed with whatever you gave her. I’m guessing barbiturates. She likes those best. Tell me now,” Carmella ordered.

“She said it would be fine. She knows her health, Carmella. You can’t be so overprotective.”

“Did she ingest barbiturates? You tell me right now or I’ll see if someone over at the courthouse can help you be more cooperative.”

Duke knew Carmella well enough by that point to know she was on the verge of losing her shit. The more precise and controlled she got in her threats, the closer she got to breaking.

He stood closer to Carmella to enforce the question. Steven nodded and rattled off the street name for whatever shit they’d taken.

Carmella shook her head. “Usually it takes you a lot longer to get to this part of your spiral back to prison. You have twenty minutes to gather your things and be out of this house. You are to have no further contact with her, do you understand me?”